OK, so the saga of my daughter’s first apartment continues. I posted yesterday about her moving out of the dorm and into a place with two girlfriends.
My precious darling announced needing two bank checks for a total of $3,217 to fly out of my you-know-what with an hour to spare, including driving her to the city!
I know. I know. Their lack of planning is not supposed to be our emergency. Guilty as charged.
I texted my editor, frantically promising to get her the story on the dog saving the day by alerting its owners to a house fire. I just needed 15 minutes… I’ve worked at the magazine for 15 years… A minute per year seemed like a fair trade, dontcha think?
“OK, but hurry!” she texted back.
Admittedly shaking with stress, I peeled off to the bank. Found parking. Filled out the forms. And presented them to the teller… with eight minutes to spare.
“Sixteen dollars?” I repeated to the nice teller lady behind the counter. “You want eight dollars per check?”
She felt badly saying yes.
(See video below.)
And I felt badly saying no, but there’s no way I was spending $18 on two pieces of paper when I could get them at Walgreen’s for $1 each and use the savings for something worthwhile, like bread, butter and beer!
Wait ’til you read what happened next.
Stay tuned tomorrow for another episode of “Don’t Let Your Kids Get Their Own Apartments!”
Check out the bank teller on this video: